


I love you from my head tomatoes

by BensCalligraphySet



Series: Fluff Prompts [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chef Rey, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Rey wants his tomatoes, farmer Ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BensCalligraphySet/pseuds/BensCalligraphySet
Summary: Because of the pandemic, Chef Rey finds herself in a bit of a bind. Fortunately, Farmer Ben is more than willing to save the day.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Fluff Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665967
Comments: 87
Kudos: 370
Collections: Galactic Idiots Collection





	I love you from my head tomatoes

**Author's Note:**

> This was loosely based on a delightful anon prompt that asked for Ben and Rey as rival business owners who find themselves alone during the pandemic. I set out to write that, but then this happened. Sorry!

It’s not a rivalry per se, but when Ben Solo (of Skywalker Farms fame) refused to sell her the tomatoes she needed to make her trademark creamy tomato and basil bisque, claiming they weren’t ‘up to his standards’ and effectively ruining her planned menu for the week, Rey decided she wasn’t above being petty and took her business elsewhere. 

It doesn’t matter that his fruit and veg are the freshest, tastiest, and most supple. It’s the principle of the thing. There are other perfectly suitable farms in the area who would never deny Rey her tomatoes. 

Except now, because of the pandemic, none of them are currently able to deliver her weekly order of produce. Which puts Rey in a real bind. The only way for her tiny bistro to stay afloat through these hard times is if she is able to continue doing business - even if on a strict takeaway-only basis. 

She would cry if she thought it would do her any good. Instead, she takes to baking bread, because flour is the only thing she has left and because kneading enables her to release all her pent-up anger. Take that, yeast. 

When her phone vibrates, she doesn’t bother cleaning her hands before fishing it out of her back pocket and answering without checking the caller ID. Her barked “ _ Yes _ ?” is met with a low, dry chuckle. She recognizes it right away. 

“Good to know you’re still as aggressive as the last time we talked.”

“One, I was not aggressive. And two, what do you want, Solo?”

“You tried to pelt me with a cucumber, Johnson.”

“You shouldn’t have withheld those tomatoes from me. I was desperate.”

“I’ll say.” It sounds like he’s smiling. It makes her blood boil. 

Rey grinds her teeth. “I repeat, what do you want?”

His voice is devoid of any teasing when he says, “I know every other farm within a 20 mile radius is shut down for the time being. Since I run a pretty small operation, the risk of infection is minimal so I can still do business. I was wondering if…” 

She waits for him to finish, hoping he’ll say what she thinks he will. She’ll swallow her pride like a champ if it means he’ll give her his cucumbers. 

“I was wondering if you might need a supplier.” The words run together, like he rushed them out as fast as possible. 

“Yes,” Rey says. “Please,” she adds. She’s not above begging.

There’s a pause on the line. Then, Ben releases a sigh. “Really?” He sounds surprised. 

Guilt coils in her stomach. Had she been that much of an asshole to him? 

“I’d be really, really grateful, actually. I’m down to my last carrot. I haven’t seen an aubergine in weeks.  _ Weeks _ , Ben.” 

“You should have called me,” he says. His voice is soft. Too soft. She knows how big he is - remembers it vividly - and nobody that large should be able to sound that soft. 

“I didn’t realize that was an option. I was bloody awful to you. I’m sorry about that.” In different circumstances, she’d hate how tiny her voice sounds. But Ben Solo, knight in shiny farmer overalls, deserves some vulnerability. It’s the least she can do. 

Again, silence permeates both ends of the line. Rey bites her nail, a nervous habit she’s never been able to kick, and gets a mouthful of flour as punishment. 

“It’s okay,” he finally says. “I didn’t handle that like I should have, either. Apology accepted.”

Something inside her settles. Her conscience, perhaps. 

“And hey, I can even squeeze in a batch of tomatoes.

She smiles, even though he obviously can’t see her. “Yeah? Are they up to your impossible standards? I couldn’t possibly take bruised tomatoes.” 

His laugh is low and harmonious. “They’re exquisite. Your bisque will be perfect.”

“You like my bisque?” She can’t help how surprised - how flattered - she sounds. 

“I like everything about you.” Ben coughs, loudly, then stammers, “Your cooking, I mean. I like everything about your cooking.”

Rey is not blushing. The kitchen’s just hot. 

“Right,” she giggles. “Well, if you can get me those tomatoes today I can make you a batch for you to take home.”

“I’d like that very much.” There’s that softness again. She didn’t realize how much she missed their casual banter, but she’s old enough to admit to herself that that might be why she’s been grumpier than usual. Why the last couple of months have been a bit of a struggle - virus from hell aside. 

Mondays just aren’t the same without the prospect of seeing Ben’s broad shoulders filling her doorway, or his deep, soulful eyes boring into hers. Watching him unload heavy crates of peaches into her kitchen, back muscles straining under his shirt, used to be the highlight of her week.

She shakes herself and clears her throat, realizing she’s been silent too long. 

“So, today?”

“Absolutely. I have a couple more deliveries to make but I should be able to drop by at around noon. Does that work for you?” 

Rey looks around her empty kitchen. “I’ll be waiting.” 

“Great. Just email me the list of things you need. I should have all your usuals.”

“You got it.”

“Bye, Rey.”

“Wait!” 

“Yes?” He asks, hesitant.

Rey’s heart lurches in her chest. “Thank you, Ben.”

She can hear him inhale, then exhale. There’s a smile on his voice when he replies, “You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon.” 

She hangs up the phone and looks down at the twelve perfectly round loaves of sourdough that dot her counter. Freshly baked bread will go marvelously with her bisque. 

* * *

“Nice buns.”

Rey yelps and turns to face the owner of the voice - and there he stands, all 6’3 glorious inches, with hair she’s wanted to pull on and lips she’s dreamt of kissing since the first time she saw him. Ben Solo leans against the door to the kitchen, powerful arms crossed over his chest, flannel shirt straining against his muscles. He’s the quintessential farmer boy with his work boots and faded jeans and the general air of someone capable of carrying you over his shoulder like a stack of hay. 

_ Oh, to be a stack of hay _ , Rey thinks. 

His smirk makes his cheeks dimple just so. Rey wants to poke them. Or kiss them. She’s not picky. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said, nice buns.” 

Rey follows his line of sight - to the loaves she has just taken out of the oven. “Oh. Right.” 

She fidgets under his appraising gaze. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It’s not exactly awkward, the silence that follows. Rey takes her time getting reacquainted with the weight of his presence (he’s very tall, so it takes a while) and, by the looks of it, so does he. His eyes dip to her lips, then to her waist, and then to her feet before returning to her eyes, where they stay, locked into hers. She can see his chest raise with a heavy intake of breath. 

It’s hard to remember why she was mad at him in the first place. She wants to blame her terrible mood swings, or mercury being in retrograde, but the fact of the matter is that sometimes she is prone to self-sabotage. And Farmer Ben had become a little bit of a staple in her life. 

She racks her brain for something to say. “I see you’ve come empty-handed.” 

Ben shoots her a sardonic smile before turning and disappearing from view. Seconds later, he returns, carrying a heavy crate full to the brim with all manner of shiny vegetables. The sight makes Rey’s heart soar. 

“Oh, you brought  _ parsnips _ .” 

Ben shrugs. “A little gift.” He deposits the crate on the counter and lets her peruse its contents. Rey can’t help but make little noises when she sees how beautifully ripe the strawberries are; how wonderfully fresh the lettuces look; how incredibly lush the tomatoes feel to the touch - she has to give it to him, those are award winning tomatoes. 

He waits patiently for her to go through every single item, smiling softly whenever something makes her gasp. 

“Ben, these are…” She looks up at him, grinning like an idiot. “They are perfect. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“I picked the best for you.” It should be cheesy - lord knows she’d be cringing if it were anybody else - but it’s Ben, so she laps it up. She can feel her cheeks warming, so she turns back to the veg and starts taking things out. 

“I know I don’t deserve it, after the way I behaved, but thank you nonetheless.” She doesn’t look at him, focusing instead on gathering what she needs to make the soup. 

Ben stops her. He takes her wrist in his hand and pulls her closer. His other hand comes up to her face, thumb and index finger taking hold of her chin, keeping her from averting her eyes. “None of that. I said it was fine. Plus, I should have called and apologized myself, and I didn’t, so.” 

He releases her chin to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Rey’s heart beats a cheerful harmony in her chest. She’s moments away from doing something impulsive and stupid, like kissing him, so she releases the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and with it, the tension that had been steadily building between them. 

“Friends, then?” 

The look he gives her is both amused and resigned. Like he wants to call her an idiot but thought better of it. 

“Sure, Johnson,” he agrees, lips quirked up. “Friends.”

Rey nods, and steps back, ignoring the slight pang of disappointment she has no one but herself to blame for. She grabs a cutting board and a sharp knife and selects three onions from the batch. 

“The soup shouldn’t take more than 45 minutes. Can you wait that long, or do you have somewhere else to be?” 

Ben shakes his head, leaning his elbows against the counter and focusing his attention on her. “I’m all yours.” 

Rey finds that she likes the sound of that. 

* * *

An hour later, she’s ladling soup into two bowls. The rich, velvety bisque is bright red and steaming. She spoons a dollop of crème fraîche on top and plates it up along with two thick slices of warm, crusty bread. She serves it to Ben with a smile and a contented sigh. It feels good to cook. To  _ make  _ something. It’s the best stress reliever and the one thing she knows she excels at. Food is her love language, and she puts her heart and soul into it. 

Ben grabs a spoon and swirls it around his bowl. Rey watches him like a hawk, anxious to see his reaction. She’s never felt this nervous about someone tasting her food, and she has to remind herself that he has had her bisque before but.. this feels different. More intimate. Special. She thinks there’s more riding on it than just whether or not he likes it. 

In a way, she feels like she’s serving him her heart on a platter. 

His face changes as soon as he closes his mouth around the spoon. His eyes light up and he practically moans as the flavour spreads around his mouth. Rey feels giddy, elated. Her cheeks pinch with how hard she smiles when he gives her two thumbs up before swallowing and saying, “You’ve outdone yourself, sweetheart. That’s fucking amazing.”

_ Sweetheart _ . 

Rey takes a bite of her bread to stop herself from telling him how much she likes hearing him call her that. “Thanks,” she says as she chews. 

Ben butters his own slice of bread and takes a generous bite. He makes a show of chewing with his mouth firmly closed, teasing Rey for her penchant for talking with her mouth full. 

“Brat!” She swats his arm, but she might as well have hit a brick wall. She pokes his bicep, just because she can and she’s feeling bold. 

“It’s offensive how buff you are.” 

Ben snorts. “Occupational hazard.” Then, lower, he asks, “Are you complaining?” 

She gulps. “Not at all.”

“Besides,” he walks around the counter, stopping right in front of her. “You’ve got some generous assets yourself.”

She likes the way he says it - teasing, a little shy. She likes the way the light dances in his eyes, soft and full of mirth. She likes the way she barely comes up to his jaw - it gives her a great view of his chest. She likes the way he’s looking at her - like the world outside doesn’t matter, like there’s nobody but the two of them. She decides that she likes everything about him. 

So she also decides to throw caution to the wind and be as stupid as she wants, because if there’s only thing Rey has learned in life, is that you have to risk it to get the biscuit. 

His eyes and his smile give her the confidence she needs to fist her hands around his shirt and pull him down to her level. She gives him a second to back away - and it’s a second too long, because he takes it as his cue to press a hand to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while the other cups her nape and tilts her face up. They’re both smiling when their lips finally meet.

Rey is pleased to confirm that he is as good at kissing as she always assumed he would be. She tells him as much, and Ben’s chuckles reverberate against the hand she has pressed against his chest. 

They break apart, but Rey refuses to step away from Ben’s warm embrace. She nuzzles his neck instead. “Your soup is getting cold,” she says. 

Ben shrugs. “Leave it. I like the way you taste better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Twitter and Tumblr - I'm @galacticidiots on both!


End file.
